Salvation (29 page)

“Anything’s fine. Don’t go to a lot of
trouble.”

“This is no trouble, and even if it
were, you’re more than worth the effort.”

He got a pot of water boiling, then
pulled some ingredients from the bags and cupboards. I offered to help and we
worked side-by-side, the quiet camaraderie between us such a comfort. Soon we
were sitting down to steaming plates of pasta puttanesca.

I ate part of my meal before venturing,
“Do you ever think about having kids? I mean, I know this discussion is
completely premature at this point in our relationship. But I was just
wondering...you know, if I did adopt that baby, how would you feel about that?
I mean, I’m not saying I expect you to co-parent with me. I just...you
know....” I didn’t really know what I was trying to say, so I stopped talking
and pushed some of the pasta around on my plate.

“I love kids, but that’s not the real
question here,” he said gently. “If you’re wondering whether I’m planning to
stick around, the answer is yes.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

“You should know that this isn’t some
random crush, not like the one I had on Hunter. I have real feelings for you,
Trevor. I won’t make assumptions about whether you’ll want me long-term, but I
will say this. If you decide to adopt that child, I’ll support you every step
of the way, for as long as you want me to.”

I looked up at him, then reached across
the table and took his hand. “Thank you. I feel the same way about you, you
know.”

He grinned at me and picked up his fork
with his free hand. “Finish your lunch, Trevor. I only have about five hours
until I have to take off, and I want to spend as much of it as possible with
you in my arms.” I grinned too and started eating again.

Chapter
Sixteen

Over the next three weeks, Melody became
increasingly moody. Slayer was on her mind a lot, and she’d mope and cry about
how much she missed him, interspersed with complaining about him. I never knew
if she was going to greet me with a smile or yell at me for some random reason.
I figured this was probably the pregnancy hormones running amok, and I cut her
a lot of slack.

Within two days of returning to the
city, she claimed she was too stir-crazy to hang out at the apartment so I
ended up bringing her to work with me. Jamie and Dmitri were sweet and
accommodating. They gave her the use of their office, where she parked herself
on the couch with a little TV that they brought downstairs from their apartment
for her. They told her she could have anything she wanted off the menu free of
charge, and every time I went to check on her, she was eating.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Dmitri one
afternoon, after I’d cleared three empty plates out of the office and ran into
him in the kitchen. “I know she’s totally taking advantage of your generosity,
and I want you to deduct these meals from my paycheck.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said
with a smile. “I’m glad she’s eating well. It’s good for both her and your
baby.”

Melody had balked at the idea of letting
me adopt the child at first. She said she wanted the baby to go to a two-parent
household, one with a lot of money and a big house. I’d made the argument that
none of those things came with any guarantees. “With me, you know what the baby
is getting,” I said. “You know I’ll love him or her with all my heart and do
absolutely everything in my power to give this child the best life possible.”

After thinking about it for a few days,
she surprised me one morning by saying, “Okay.”

“Okay?” I echoed.

Melody said, “I think you were born to
be a parent, Trevor. I mean, you’ve been taking care of me since we were
little. You’re going to do a good job raising this kid. Besides, I really don’t
like the idea of handing the baby over to total strangers. What if they only
seem
nice, but aren’t really? What if they’re mean to this kid? I know you’ll never
be mean.”

 Part of me was afraid she’d change
her mind, but I decided to trust her. I allowed myself to feel happiness and
excitement, to start thinking of that little person as mine. Sure, part of me
was anxious, too. I knew I was taking on the biggest responsibility of my life.
I was enough of a realist to understand that I’d have to work ten times as hard
to support a child, and I also knew I’d make mistakes. Every parent did, it was
inevitable.

But at the same time, I already loved
that baby and was prepared to fully dedicate myself to his or her wellbeing.
That part was remarkably easy, actually. From the moment Melody said yes, it
was as if my whole universe shifted. All of a sudden, the baby became my entire
focus. It was as if my life wasn’t about me anymore, it was about someone else.
And it didn’t feel like a sacrifice at all. It just felt right.

*****

Over those same few weeks, Vincent and I
spent as much time together as we could, although whatever he was working on
was obviously putting a lot of pressure on him. Sometimes two or three days
went by where all he could manage were sporadic phone calls. He’d apologize and
tell me how much he missed me, and we’d make plans for a few stolen hours
whenever he could get away.

I met Vincent at his apartment one
Friday afternoon after work, after three days of nothing but phone calls. As
soon as he opened the door, he scooped me up in his arms and kissed me passionately,
then hugged me for a long time. When he finally put me down and looked in my
eyes, I could tell immediately that something was wrong. But before I could ask
about it, he stuck a smile on his face and said, “It’s really nice out, do you
feel like going for a walk?”

“Sure.”

We rode back down on the elevator and
left the building hand-in-hand. Vincent led us toward the Embarcadero, a gentle
breeze stirring our hair, the sun warm on our skin.

“Something’s bothering you,” I said
gently after a while.

He grinned a little. “I used to be so
good at keeping things hidden from people. But you always know when something’s
wrong.”

“Can you talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Is there some way I can help?”

“You
are
helping, just by being
here. This is the best I’ve felt all week.”

I squeezed his hand a little tighter.
After a while I said, “I’m trying so hard not to pry. But it’s really tough
when I know something’s bothering you.”

“It won’t be like this much longer.”

We walked along the bay, watching a
cargo ship moving slowly in the distance. After a while he led us to a bench
and took both my hands as we sat down. He fought to keep his voice level as he
said, his head turned away from me, eyes still on the distant ship, “Everything
I’ve been working toward is all coming to a head this weekend. I really don’t
know if I can pull it off, or if it’s all going to blow up in my face. In
case...well, in case things don’t go as planned, I wanted to ask you to do
something for me.”

“What is it?”

“No matter what you hear, no matter what
other people tell you I did...I want to ask you to please remember that I was
only trying to do the right thing, no matter how it might look.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe as fear
pushed down on my chest. “Do you think there’s a chance you’ll be killed? Is
that why you’re telling me this?”

“I’m going to try so hard to stay safe
and come back to you,” he said quietly.

That only ratcheted up my fear and
anxiety. “Vincent, I’m begging you, don’t show up to whatever’s going down this
weekend. I know you keep saying you don’t have a choice, but you do. Just don’t
go!”

“If I don’t show up, then people I love
will pay the price,” he murmured.

“Who? Dante? You said before that you
were doing this for him and for your family. But Dante wouldn’t want you to die
for him, Vincent! He loves you.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I was
just nervous about all of this finally coming together after years of planning.
There’s so much that could go wrong....”

“Then just walk away, Vincent. Whatever
this deal is, it isn’t worth your life.”

“I’m telling you I can’t do that.”

I pulled my hands from his and stood up.
“Ever since I’ve known you, I’ve been sitting idly by while you put yourself in
danger, trying to tell myself you have it under control and that it’ll be okay.
But now you’re telling me you’re about to intentionally walk into a dangerous
situation, and how am I supposed to react to that? I can’t just smile and say,
‘okay, have fun! If you’re not killed, then let’s go out next week!’ I mean,
what do you expect me to do here, Vincent?”

“I don’t know.”

“If the situation were reversed, if you
knew I was about to go plunging into a dangerous situation that you knew
nothing about, what would you do?”

Instead of answering that, he said,
“Trevor, please don’t be upset. Not now. You’ve been so understanding up to
this point, can’t you do that for just a little longer?”

“This feels different. I can tell you’re
scared, and that in turn frightens the hell out of me. The whole situation just
feels off, like something really bad is about to happen and you’re not willing
to listen to reason.”

“It’s not a question of listening to
you. I have to do this!”

“Don’t you care about what this is doing
to me?”

He was on his feet now, too. “Of course
I care!”

“Just not enough to actually change your
plans.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, turning from me and
pulling his glasses off, then pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment,
he put his glasses back on and started heading toward his apartment.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking away before I start yelling at
you.”

“You’re still going through with your
plans, aren’t you?” I called after him.

“I
have to
!” He didn’t break his
stride.

I just stood there for a few moments,
watching him retreat. Then I turned from him and started walking in the
opposite direction, deciding that a cooling off period was a really good idea.
I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jeans and increased my pace. After a
few minutes, I passed the Ferry Building and just kept going, trying to work
through my frustration.

I didn’t know what to say to Vincent and
even if I did, I had no idea how to make him listen. He believed he was doing
the right thing, he thought he was helping his family. But how? It certainly
seemed like the Dombrusos were financially well-off, so it didn’t make sense to
assume he was trying to earn money for his family. What else could matter this
much? Reputation? Some antiquated sense of honor? Of duty? Would that really be
worth risking his life?

I walked for a long time. My anger and
frustration seeped away after a while, and I was just left feeling sad and
scared. Eventually I turned and started heading back toward Vincent’s
apartment, hoping that by the time I reached it, I would have miraculously come
up with the perfect thing to say to convince him not to go through with
whatever was brewing this weekend.

I was too late.

I’d just rounded the corner onto
Vincent’s street when I noticed a big black pickup truck that was rolling past
me. Rooster was behind the wheel, with Vincent in the passenger seat. It looked
like they were in the midst of a heated discussion, and neither noticed me.
“Damn it,” I murmured, watching as the truck reached the Embarcadero and turned
right, heading south.

I pulled out my phone and tapped it on
my palm for a few moments, trying to quickly put together a compelling argument
as to why he needed to quit what he was doing and come back. As I stood there,
I happened to glance up at a charcoal grey BMW that was travelling in the same
direction as the truck. When I looked inside the car, the hairs on the back of
my neck stood on end.

It was being driven by a big, burly
white guy with buzzed off hair and a weird tattoo on his cheek. He was one of
the men that Vincent had been running from the day we met, so many weeks ago.
Two other men were in the car as well, another huge guy in the passenger seat,
a smaller one with mirrored sunglasses in back. I watched as the BMW took the
same right turn the truck had taken.

Vincent was being followed again.

I fumbled with my phone and speed-dialed
his number as I ran to the intersection where they had turned. His phone must
have been off, since it went straight to voice mail. I yelled in frustration,
then said into the phone, “Vincent, you’re being followed. There’s a dark grey
BMW maybe half a block behind you, and I recognized the driver as one of the
men that was after you the night you took me on that car chase. I’m really
scared. Call me as soon as you get this message, and please be careful!”

I hung up and craned my neck to look
down the Embarcadero, but both vehicles were out of sight, lost in traffic.
What if the message didn’t reach him in time and those men caught up to him? I
had to do something, I had to help him somehow.

I started running. It was surprisingly
crowded, with people pouring off public transit to join the throngs on the
sidewalk. Traffic was stop-and-go, too. I couldn’t figure out why at first, but
then I realized there must be a Giants home game tonight, and their stadium was
just a few blocks from here. I dialed Vincent’s phone again as I weaved through
the crowd, and again it went right to voice mail. All I could think to do was
catch up to the truck and warn him in person, which might actually be possible
if traffic remained this heavy.

The sidewalk was totally clogged, and
after a minute I ran into the street, hugging the line of parked cars. I was
able to speed up a bit, my heart racing in my chest, as much from fear as from
exertion. I yelped as I leapt out of the way of an opening car door, which
caused a bicyclist to swerve around me and cuss me out. I tried Vincent’s phone
one more time and hung up when voice mail engaged yet again.

Who else could I call? Would anyone
actually know where Vincent was going? I knew I was going to lose him the
moment traffic picked up a bit, so it would really help to know his
destination. For lack of a better idea, I dialed Dmitri’s cellphone.

He answered on the third ring with a
cheerful, “Hey there, Trevor.”

It was really hard to dodge cars and
bicyclists, gasp for air, and carry on a conversation at the same time. I
stammered, “Vincent is being followed by a couple dangerous men. I’m pursuing
him on foot near the Giants’ stadium, he’s driving south on the Embarcadero. I know
this is a stretch, but do you have any idea where he might be headed? That
showdown between your uncle and Vincent’s men didn’t coincidentally happen to
take place in China Basin, did it?”